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Slippery When Wet
Chapter Two
Joe parked in the lot outside the Los Angeles Police Academy gates. He jogged to the obstacle course from there. Chavez and Mallory huddled in one group and their training officers in another. Joe wondered what the TOs were discussing and where Pender was. He was still trying to shake the sleep from his body. Near the start of the course a man in a three-piece suit stood tapping his foot.
"Keeping late hours, Mannix?" Pender had snuck up behind him.
Joe didn't answer. He'd spent until around 2 AM watching the entrances to the Intertect building. He was operating on less than four hours sleep and thanked God that he would only be doing this for about a week.
While he was watching Intertect, he listened to the tape he retrieved from Wright's apartment. The majority of the tape was Wright singing along with The Pirates of Penzance opera, over and over again. After listening to that, hearing the late news, toilet flushing, bed creaking and snoring was a relief.
Joe stretched his back and yawned again. He wondered what they were waiting for when he spied Lew arriving. Joe didn't need a watch; it was 6 AM.
In his official Intertect sweat suit, Lew was trim and fit. Joe realized that in Costa Verde he never saw him exercise. Not a single push up or jumping jack, yet he had been tireless. Joe had reasoned Lew rose with the chickens and did whatever exercising he needed before Joe had even thought about rolling over in his sleep.
Pender jogged over to Lew. All Joe could hear was Lew saying "we'll talk about it later." Pender didn't look happy. Joe filed that away for later thought.
"I'm Frank Kidd," said the man in the three piece suit. "You'll be meeting with me on Thursday in my normal role as range officer." He held an extra-wide clipboard with five stopwatches. "This obstacle course is designed to give us a benchmark for use in planning your physical training. Pace yourselves. We're not expecting record breaking times. Just do your best. Any questions?"
Pender jogged a distance down the trail and disappeared with the other training officers. Joe smelled a trap. He wondered if the others had noticed.
Lew swung his arms in circles and jogged in place. He nodded toward Joe and the other trainees and signaled to Kidd. Joe positioned himself next to Lew.
"Ready . . . set . . . go!" Kidd let his arm drop.
Lew held Joe back as the others rushed to start the course. He followed him as Lew crossed the berm, worked his way up the ladder climb, and down the knotted rope. Once on the ground again, Joe trotted next to him.
"So what have you found out so far?" Lew asked.
"Nothing. I've only managed to check out Wright. If he's leaking information, he's snoring it in Morse Code in his sleep with The Pirates of Penzance as the code key. I haven't had a chance to get to Richards or the girl yet. I don't think there's anything to find."
"There's got to be something I've missed. That information doesn't just fly through the air and magically land on the KGB's desk."
Lew deftly jumped over the barbed wire laid across the dirt trail. Joe had been too busy talking to notice where he was going and almost fell into the barbed wire. He moved back few steps to get a running leap over the obstacle. Up ahead on the trail, Joe saw Mallory dodging Fredericks.
He huffed and puffed as he caught up to Lew. "You sweep the area for bugs?"
"Every day since this came up."
"None of this figures." From the what Joe gathered from Pender, Lew's people were loyal to a fault. Somebody at Intertect had to hate his guts to be doing this to him. A week wasn't giving him enough time to find out who.
"Oh, by the way, you'll get a chance to meet Carol Bagley this morning."
"How?" Joe asked.
Wickersham sprung off a grassy ledge, did a forward roll, and came up running. Joe stumbled to the ground, dusted himself off and chased after Lew.
"Don't worry about it," Lew said. "It's been arranged."
Lew barely broke stride as he balanced his way across the first pipe; Joe slowed his crossing. Lew waited for him at the second pipe. He had one of the ropes in hand and was preparing to swing across a small ravine.
"Is that all? I've only got five days left before I'm minus a quarter of a million dollar contract."
"If I could get Pender off my back, I could move a little faster. Oh, thanks for getting me out of the driving test."
Ahead of them Joe saw Parker come out of the bushes, tackle Chavez, and wrestle him to the ground. After he swung to the other side of the ravine, Joe's eyes darted to the sides of the trail checking for any movement.
"Is there anywhere else they could be getting this information? What about those colleges you mentioned?"
Lew slowed to a walk. "UCLA and UC Santa Barbara locally. Stanford and the University of Utah are the other sites involved. I never thought of that. Maybe you're right. Maybe no one at Intertect is involved."
Lew scrambled into a cement pipe; Joe followed. His voice reverberated within.
"Wait a minute, Lew, don't go jumping to conclu—"
Pender pounced from the top of the pipe as Joe exited. Flat on his stomach with his TO on top, two pairs of Converse-clad feet jetted by them. He pushed Pender off and tried to get to his feet but Pender grabbed an ankle and tripped him. He hit his left knee when he fell to the ground. Damn it! Chavez limped by with Parker at his side. He kicked at Pender finally loosening his TO's grip. Joe ran before Pender could recover. They were the last to finish. Joe hoped Pender had as many bruises as he did.
"Don't bother to take a shower." Pender knocked the dust from his sweatpants. "You're going to the gym for the rest of the morning and assist with our women's self-defense class."
"What? Why me?"
"Your personnel file says you have a black belt in karate which means you know how to take a fall. The ladies need someone to practice on and you're elected."
Joe limped to his Intertect car. Gotta love the way Lew operates.
o0O0o
The gym consisted of a weight room with the latest Universal gym equipment, an open matted area, and a boxing ring with a heavy punching bag and a speed bag hanging off to the side on a wall.
When Joe arrived, five women were on the matted area. A two of the women wore culottes, two with official Intertect sweats, and one woman in short pants and a sweat shirt. Carol Bagley stood to the side in her judo gi and evaluated her students as they practiced.
"Are you Mannix?" she asked when Joe walked up to her.
Joe nodded.
"New guy, huh?" He noticed she was looking him over. "Looks like you've already had a rough day. Obstacle course?"
"Yeah, how'd you guess?"
"I'm not new." She reached out her hand. "Carol Bagley, the instructor. You get drafted?"
"Yep." She had a strong grip for a woman. "What do you teach them?" he asked.
"Basic self-defense. For Intertect's women operatives, it's a mandatory class, just like firearms qualification. For other Intertect women employees, it's optional. I teach them the basic throws and then we get a draftee, such as yourself, for them to practice on. At first I'd like you to not to resist so they can get a feel for your weight and height. Later I'll have you resist their moves so I can give them pointers on how to handle an assailant. Shall we?" She led Joe onto the mat.
"Ladies, this is Mr. Mannix. He's our draftee for today. You'll all get a chance to practice your moves on him."
"Does he get to practice his moves on us?" the woman in shorts asked.
"What he does off the mat is his own business. Lois, let's start with you. Ladies, the rest of you continue."
For the remainder of the morning Joe hit the mat again and again and again. It had been a number of years since he'd visited a dojo. His black belt had grown rust. For what he did in his investigative career, fists and guns worked a lot faster.
It was mid-morning when the class concluded and not too soon for Joe. He was going to smell like Ben-Gay for the next couple of days.
"Thanks for your help. Usually our draftee is not happy to be here."
"Somebody's got to do it. Besides it's better than memorizing the Intertect Manual."
Carol laughed. "Don't underestimate the amount of information that's in there. You could learn a thing or two from it."
"I was thinking," Joe said as they drifted toward the locker rooms. "That getting thrown around all morning has gotta be good for at least dinner tonight."
"Maybe some other time."
"Lunch?"
"Thanks again." She disappeared into the women's locker room.
Joe thought about resorting to surveillance; his charm and good looks weren't getting him anywhere.
o0O0o
Joe checked his watch: 11:07 AM. If he remembered his schedule correctly, he was free until his 1 PM Data Operations I class. That's is if he could avoid Pender. Since breakfast wasn't even a memory because he didn't eat it, Joe decided to hit the Holiday House Cafe in the plaza building next door. He entered and noticed Richards sitting at the counter alone. His hair was grayer than Joe remembered from his file. The photo must have been from a few years back. Time to make contact. He sat down beside him.
"Looks like you paid a lot of attention during your security briefing. You're not supposed to wear your badge outside of Intertect facilities."
"Oh, sorry. I'm new." Joe stuffed the badge in a coat pocket.
Richards extended his hand. "You're . . ."
"Joe Mannix." He shook Richards' hand.
"Brady Richards."
Joe picked up a menu. "What's good?"
"The Reuben."
"Reuben, it is." He signaled to the counter waitress. "How long have you been with Intertect?" Joe asked.
"Since I got out of the Corps a few years ago."
Joe lit up a cigarette. "Second day." He played with his lighter. "Look, I saw you with this chick—"
"Carol?"
"Is that her name? I was wondering if you could help a fellow out."
"Like what?" Richards asked between chews.
"I'd like to ask her out. She doesn't already have a boyfriend, does she?"
"Up until about a couple of months ago she was with some guy named Larry Watson. They broke up."
Joe let out a breath. "Great, I don't want to muscle in on some guy's territory. Does she like flowers?"
"What woman doesn't?"
"Don't you both work in that restricted area?" The second he said it, Joe wished he hadn't. He could feel Richards' radar go on full alert.
"Yeah."
"Must be pretty hush-hush."
"Yeah." Richards gave him the evil eye, quickly paid his bill and left.
Damn, Joe thought, two for two.
o0O0o
After lunch Joe decided to take a daylight tour of the perimeter of the Intertect Building. Nothing remarkable about the layout. Lobby entrance in the front, loading dock in the rear, parking entrance off the street. He stopped to light another cigarette near the loading dock. A purple and white Royal Vending van was parked there along with a local furniture truck. A camera was mounted high on the concrete wall. He stood under it to get a sense of its area of view. Mostly it covered the loading dock itself and a little bit of the service elevator. He walked around to the parking entrance.
A corner of the parking was dedicated to Intertect according to Pender's speech last night. Joe counted ten different makes of car, everything from a Chevy station wagon to a Volkswagen Beetle. Good idea for moving surveillance. Three gray vans with Intertect logos painted on them were parked next to them.
His car was parked in the middle. He decided he'd leave his Intertect car tonight and drive his own car home and return tomorrow by cab. If Lew was supplying the wheels, Joe might as well use them. It was Lew's dime.
The elevator door slid open. To his surprise Carol stepped out followed by a young man in brown fringed suede jacket and blue jeans. What was more surprising was that instead of long hair to go with the jacket, the man had a military buzz cut. Joe stepped out of their view behind a column.
The man followed her to what Joe assumed was Carol's car, an early 60s Buick Skylark hardtop. She handed him the keys. At that moment another car drove in and Joe couldn't hear what was being said, but they appeared to be arguing. Joe wondered if the man could be Larry Watson. A little young for her. Maybe her brother. The man slammed the car door and drove away. He sped by so fast Joe couldn't get a good look at him. When he turned back to Carol she was stepping into the elevator.
Joe had an idea. Maybe he wouldn't need a cab.
o0O0o
Wickersham was returning to his office from his every-other-week tour of Intertect facilities in the building. He liked to walk around to see if he noticed any inefficiencies like employees lined up at a printer waiting for printouts. He had solved that one by adding two other printers at other locations on the floor. Any employee could look and see what printer wasn't busy and send his file there. Problem solved.
When he entered his office suite, Brady was pacing in front of Chris's desk. Chris made it a point of honor that no one was ever allowed in Wickersham's office without him there. She would have made a great marine.
"What can I do for you, Brady?" Wickersham indicated for Brady to precede him into his office.
"I thought you'd like to know one of your new hires tried to pump me for information about Project Moriarty," Richards said.
"And which new hire would that be?" Wickersham asked as he moved to his desk.
"He identified himself as Joe Mannix. Is he working for you?"
"Of course, he's working for me. He's an Intertect employee."
"You know what I mean."
Wickersham did.
"I'll have his training officer give him a refresher on security protocols. Anything else?"
"No, Carol and Woody are still working on that problem."
"I have every confidence you'll get it solved." Wickersham began shuffling the papers on his desk. He could feel Brady's presence. He glanced up only after he heard the door close.
How could Mannix be so stupid as to blow his cover already?
o0O0o
When Joe arrived at the data operations class, everyone was waiting on him. He didn't have his Intertect Manual and no notebook. Fredericks was tapping a wooden board pointer against his leg.
"Glad you could join us," he said.
This class was another waste of a good afternoon. Joe wasn't interested in the organization of the data operations section. He wasn't interested in what the proper forms were for a data inquiry. He didn't care that normal requests took twenty-four hours to process; emergency requests could be handled in as little as fifteen minutes. He wanted the class to be over with. He had other things to do.
Joe waited in his Intertect-issued car at the far end of the parking level. He scrunched down in the driver's seat hoping not to be noticed. He watched the crowd of employees, having punched their time cards, vacate the building. After the first flurry of fleeing employees, Joe noticed Carol standing by the elevator carrying her purse and a bundle of white clothing encased by a brown belt. Joe recognized it as being her judo gi. A good way to smuggle out information.
He watched her pace in front of the elevators and frown at her watch. The man who borrowed her car earlier was late in picking her up. Joe was depending on it. He started the car and steered it close to the elevator doors. The brakes screeched when he stopped.
"I was wondering if you could do me a favor." Joe flashed her his best smile.
Carol arched her eyebrows.
"Could I get you to drive my car home for me and then it would be my treat for dinner?"
"Really? That's not your car you're driving?"
"No, this belongs to Intertect."
"And you want me to drive your car to your place?"
"Yes."
"You could get any one of your buddies to do that for you."
"Do you see anybody else around?"
The elevator doors opened. No one exited.
"I promise to be on my best behavior." Joe held up his fingers in a boy scout salute. "Scout's honor."
"I didn't know they had a merit badge for 'picking up women'."
Joe smiled again. "They do now."
The elevator doors closed.
"Just so you know, I'm doing this because I need a ride home."
Joe tossed her his keys. "The silver Charger." He rejoiced. No Pirates of Penzance tonight.
"So who was supposed to pick you up?" Joe asked as he drove away from the curb in front of his apartment on Nella Vista.
"Why did you ask that?"
"You looked like you were waiting on someone."
"You were watching me?"
"Not really," he lied. "I just happened to see you standing by the elevator."
"You must have come down before me. I don't remember you passing by me."
"I walked down the stairs." He knew the stairs door was not where she could see it from the elevator.
She stared at him. "Really? From the eleventh floor."
"I like to walk. Besides it's all down hill." He turned on to North Vermont from Prospect. Sarno's stood in the middle of the block. "This is it. Been here before?"
"No, first time."
Joe walked around the car to open her door. "My second time."
On an early Tuesday evening, the crowd was light. They had their pick of booths. They ordered and their waiter brought the bread sticks and wine.
Joe excused himself. He was relieved she left the gi in his car. He bypassed the men's restroom and headed straight out the back door. He rushed to the street in front of the restaurant. He purposely hadn't parked in front of Sarno's even though there was a spot available.
At his car he reached in and squeezed the bundled gi to feel for hard objects like a tape recorder or a camera. Nothing. Then he stuck his fingers amongst the folds feeling and listening for paper. Again nothing.
He didn't want to take it apart, but he had to know. He studied the knot a moment and then unwrapped it and the bundle. Her judo gi held nothing other than itself. He carefully re-rolled it and hoped he got the knot right. He knew by now she'd be wondering where he was. He raced to the back entrance and returned to their booth.
"I was beginning to think you had abandoned me."
"Ran out of hand soap. Had wait for them to fill it up." Joe unbuttoned his suit coat and reached for his cigarettes.
"So what do you do at Intertect?" he asked.
"I'm a programmer analyst."
"Which is?"
"The person who, when a program is not running correctly, figures out what's wrong and how to fix it."
"Does that mean you work in the computer operations section? I haven't seen you around except in the break room."
She took a cigarette case from her purse; Joe lit it for her. "I'm working on a special project for Mr. Wickersham. What brought you to Intertect?"
"A job. I needed one so Lew hired me. I'm an operative-trainee."
"You're the only person I've heard, besides my boss, refer to Wickersham by his first name." The smoke she blew out covered her face for a second. "Must be nice to have someone 'give' you a job."
"Trust me, Lew doesn't give anybody anything. By the way, where did you learn judo?"
"What you're sayinh is that it's unusual for a woman to know a martial art. My father taught me a few things he learned in the army from when he was stationed in Japan. I sorta liked throwing men around, so I found an instructor who would teach women and the rest is history."
Joe tapped the ash off his cigarette. "So you work on special projects for Lew."
"Let's drop the talk about work."
"I'm just interested—"
"A little too interested." She stubbed out her cigarette. "Did Wickersham send you to see what you could get out of me? Very clever of him how he had us meet." She grabbed her purse and slipped from the booth. "Take me home, please." Joe could do nothing but pay for the their uneaten meal and follow.
It was so frosty in the Comet, he thought about putting up the convertible's cloth top and turning on the heat. He was thankful she was so mad she didn't notice that her gi had been tampered with. After he dropped her at home he decided it was time to try a little James Bond action.
Joe stood underneath the camera. He knew he would be on tape as soon as he hopped up onto the loading dock, but at least it wouldn't catch his face. He was tempted to turn around and say "Hi, Lew," to the camera. No time for grandstanding. He lowered the safety doors of the service elevator and pressed the button for the eleventh floor.
When he got off the elevator he wasn't sure where he was. He hadn't mapped this part of the eleventh floor. He fumbled his way to the restricted area. What he saw when he found the corridor leading to his goal gave him pause.
The electric eye beams glowed warnings in the dark. Red beams crisscrossed the hallway. So the panels he'd noticed on Monday, opened at night to reveal five sets of beams set at irregular heights and intervals. He'd have to be a contortionist to get by them. As far as he knew this hallway was the only way in.
His eyes roamed the walls. Where were the controls? Down on the floor were two slits in the floor molding. It opened like a hinged door revealing a round keyway.
He had two choices: wait and see if there was a roaming guard or set off the alarm and see how long it took for the guards to show up. Should have paid more attention during the security briefing. Either way he wouldn't have a lot of time. Then he heard the chatter of a walkie-talkie and saw a flashlight piercing the dark hallway. He melted into the wall and waited.
The footsteps stopped as the flashlight searched ahead of the guard. Just as the guard looked right, Joe slugged him and eased him to the floor. He found the guard's keyring, located the key, slipped it in and turned. The beams disappeared. So far no alarm.
The other key on the guard's ring opened the door to the restricted area. Time was short. He dragged the unconscious guard through the door and dumped him.
The area was smaller than he imagined. A conference room to his right, five desks and a small glass-enclosed office in front of him. No papers on the desk. Filing cabinets against the wall were locked. Some type of TV screen with a keyboard attached sat in a corner. What had Pender called it—a remote terminal? He had mentioned during the tour that this was one of the other ways to access the IBM main frame.
None of the keys on the ring fit the door of the small office. He went to the conference room. He flicked the light switch and saw a chalkboard on the wall with a table with about half a dozen chairs squeezed in around it. Diagrams and formulas dotted the chalkboard. He photographed it with his Minox miniature camera. Time to go. He removed the guard's walkie-talkie and left him inside the door.
He ran back down the corridor and turned the beams back on. He left the keys and the radio on the floor. Everything had been filmed. He wondered if anyone was paying attention.
oO0Oo
The Wednesday morning class was radio operations. Parker, Chavez's TO, was the instructor. Three hours of which channels to use when and proper radio etiquette.
While Chavez and Mallory were diligently taking notes on radio operations in their Intertect-issued black notebooks, he sifted through last night with Carol. He must be rusty. Usually he was pretty good at drawing information out of people without them catching on and he knew she wasn't smuggling anything out in her judo uniform. At least not last night. Now he had two of the suspects suspicious about him. His cover was probably blown. And that gauntlet of electric eyes would have even challenged his friend, Al Mundy. He had to figure out who the leak was so he could get the hell out of here. Oh, well, back to the Pirates of Penzance.
"What channels do we use for moving surveillance, Mannix?"
At the sound of his name, Joe sensed everyone was staring at him.
"Um." Joe flipped through the pages of his manual. He hadn't opened it.
"Gordon, why don't we break for lunch," he heard Pender say.
"Sounds good. Back here at 1 PM. There will be a short quiz," Parker said.
Chavez and Mallory gave Joe a what's-with-you look and left. Joe heard Parker say to Pender. "You'd better get your boy with the program."
Pender stomped toward him.
"What's with you? You know how many applications we turn down in a week? You come in every day and don't pay attention, act like you don't care, seems like you'd rather be somewhere else. Tell me, Mannix, do you really want to be here?"
"Get off my back, Pender. I don't need you or a manual to tell me how to use a radio or how to tail a suspect. I've been doing it for years."
"So it's Mannix's way or no way." Pender stuck his face close to Joe's. "Get used to it. You're here to learn the Intertect way and you'd better get started."
"Yeah, sure," Joe said.
He wanted to scream at Pender, Listen, buddy, I'm only here long enough to find out something your computers can't. Then it's adios to the Intertect way.
Instead of going out to lunch, Joe brooded in the canteen. He parked himself at a small corner table. He had long ago finished the ham-and-cheese sandwich he had bought from the vending machine and now he played with his empty coffee cup. He was on cigarette number three.
Carol and Wright entered. From his corner spot, they looked like an old married couple arguing about the same old thing.
"Dr. Klein at UCLA called. The data packets are not getting through. Sounds like that endless loop problem again," Carol said.
"Don't blame me. It's your programming. You had everybody up in arms about the repeater," Wright countered.
"That's because last time it was. . ."
Carol's voice faded as they moved to a table near a vending machine on the other side of the canteen. When she had passed by Joe, she ignored him. What little else he heard, he didn't understand. Made him wonder if they should be discussing stuff like that outside of the restricted area.
He wouldn't be surprise if she'd reported him to Richards or maybe Lew. A week wasn't really enough time for an operation like this. He didn't have time to get to know people before he had to ask a lot of questions.
A guard marched to his table. "Mr. Wickersham wants to see you." Joe noticed the guard placed his hand on his weapon. What now, house arrest?
o0O0o
Wickersham punched a button on his video console and a panel opened in his office wall revealing a small screen.
"This is from the hallway camera."
Mannix watched the replay of his last night's intrusion.
"What was the point of that?" Wickersham asked.
"Anybody recognize me?"
"I did. The watch commander called and let me know what had happened."
"You could have warned me about those electric eyes."
"Why would I do that? You're supposed to be investigating my suspects not playing international thief. You knocked out the roaming guard. That's old-fashioned."
"I'm an old-fashioned guy."
"Nice touch leaving the guard inside with his keys and radio on the outside." Wickersham slipped behind his desk. "You got anything else for me?"
"No." Mannix's shoulders slumped. "Seems to me you should be able to do this yourself. I appreciate the favor. Maybe losing my license was a good thing."
"We made a deal. It's not only this." Wickersham rolled a pencil back forth across his desk. "I know you've got my back."
Mannix nodded and headed for the door. He took the miniature camera from his breast pocket and tossed it to Wickersham. "You might want to get those developed."
After Mannix left, Wickersham buzzed Chris and handed her the camera. "Get this to the lab and mark it for my eyes only. And put a rush on it." He rewound the tape and replayed the night Mannix invaded Intertect.
o0O0o
The last class of the day was in the first floor security office. Part of Intertect's lease with plaza management, the class was told, was to provide security for this building and the rest of the Tishman Plaza buildings. Intertect used the guard's position in this building as a training post for new Intertect security guards and for familiarization of its operatives. Day guards wore ties and blazers with the Intertect logo on the breast pocket and a concealed weapon in a shoulder holster. The night and weekend guards wore an Intertect gray uniform with a holstered weapon. On his schedule Joe was slated for familiarization training on Saturday. He hoped he would be finished with Intertect before then.
The video surveillance class was Pender's. The surveillance was set up with two video decks. In case one deck inexplicably ran out of tape or malfunctioned, the second deck was programmed to take over.
Pender informed them that this video cassette deck was the latest in video technology. Mr. Wickersham had partnered with different electronics companies for Intertect to test out their newest products. This gave Intertect access to technology no one else had and this was but one example. Formerly they had been using large one-and-two inch video tape reels. Now all that was encased in a cassette the size of a carton of cigarettes.
Pender's talking about the specifications became so much white noise that Joe almost tuned out.
"Ampex VC—" Pender continued.
Joe caught himself. Even if he wasn't interested he knew how to act like it until the end of the day.
o0O0o
"Mr. Wickersham, Agent Hanson on line three."
"Thanks, Chris." Wickersham scowled at the white blinking light on his phone. He didn't want to have this conversation yet, mainly because he had nothing to report. He was running out of time and he had nothing to show for it except for a possible quarter million dollar loss in his accounting ledger. That was not a conversation he wanted to have with his board of directors.
o0O0o
Thursday already and Joe had nothing to tell Lew. As usual he was the last to arrive at the combination indoor firing range and armory in the subbasement of the building. Pender, the other trainees and their TOs lined the small corridor between the firing lanes and the armory.
"Good, you're all here." The armorer looked out of the dutch door that led to the armory. "For those of you with short memories, I'm Frank Kidd, the armorer and range safety officer for Intertect. I am here to aid you with your Intertect-issued weapons. Today is to familiarize you with three of the weapons in the Intertect inventory: .22 caliber Walther PPK, .38 caliber Colt Detective Special, and .45 caliber Colt Commander. In the coming weeks you'll do actual qualification. You will not be issued your Intertect firearm until you do so."
He pointed to the two doors they had passed through. "Both doors are kept closed to aid in noise suppression. When you get to your firing lane you'll also notice the sound baffles on the range walls for the same purpose." He pointed up. "When the range is in operation, ventilation is handled through those ducts above the firing positions. The range is for handguns only. There are five firing lanes. The distance to the targets is fifteen yards . . ."
Joe's eyes glazed over. More information than he cared to know.
"Today is an open range, firing at your own pace. Your training officers will assist you with any weapon you're not familiar with. Now to your assigned positions. Chavez, lane 2. Mallory, lane 4, Mannix, lane 3."
Pender stationed himself behind Joe. The three weapons were laid out with its ammunition on the shelf in each firing lane.
"I'm going to assume that you didn't read the section on range safety like I told you to. In fact from now on, I'm going to assume you never do anything you're told to do."
"Load your choice of weapon," Kidd said over the range speakers.
Joe loaded the magazine into the Walther keeping the weapon pointed downrange. He assumed the standard firing stance.
"I heard you knew Mr. Wickersham before Intertect," Pender said.
"Is the range ready?"
Out of the corner of his eye, Joe saw Pender signal to Kidd.
"The range is ready. Fire at will."
"Yeah, Lew and I have worked together."
Joe sighted the targets down range. Instead of the regular human bulls eye targets each lane had three stylized silhouettes: a man crouching, a man kneeling, and a man standing. He decided on the middle target, the man kneeling. He squeezed off three rounds. A little high.
"You don't seem to be the type of man we usually get."
"Oh, what type am I?" Joe popped off the rest of the clip and removed it. Interviewing people wasn't the only thing he was rusty with.
"The kind of guy who does his own thing."
Joe loaded the Detective Special. "A job's a job. Look, Lew gave me a job because I needed one. You're right. I'm used to being my own man."
"I'm here to help you make the adjustment to the Intertect way."
Joe fired at the crouching target, a perfect grouping of three at the shoulder. "And if I don't adjust?" The .38 always felt better in his hand. He aimed at the kneeling target again and fired the remaining rounds. Still a little high.
"I have the authority to wash you out. Of course, Mr. Wickersham has the final determination if you think that will save your ass. He rarely overrides my decisions."
Joe opened the chamber of the .38 and replaced it on the shelf.
"I see."
"No, you don't see." Pender moved close enough that Joe could smell his Aqua Velva shaving lotion. "Intertect may not be the army, navy, the marine corps or the air force, but we have rules here and you will follow them."
"Of course." Joe slapped the magazine into the .45. The standing target was next. Without a break, he emptied the seven-round magazine into it. All center mass.
o0O0o
Joe did not relish the afternoon Data Operations II class. Data Operations I had been bad enough; what else they could talk about? Lew and his rules and regulations. He thought about checking the Intertect Manual to see if he was allowed to bring a cup of coffee into the classroom to keep him awake.
As Joe exited the canteen, he noticed Richards taking the down elevator. Joe rushed for the service elevator. If he was very lucky he might make it to the parking level before Richards. He raced around the corner of the loading dock just in time see Richards get into his Impala. Joe tossed the cup and ran for the Mercury. Time to play hooky.
o0O0o
Wickersham leaned over Hayden's shoulder as both men watched the blip on the rolling map of Los Angeles County. Mannix was on the loose. The blip had stopped on the UCLA campus. Mannix was on to something. UCLA was one of the other entities involved in Project Moriarty.
For now he wouldn't inform Pender of Mannix's location. At this point it wasn't anything Pender needed to know.
Wickersham wondered what took Mannix so long to go AWOL.
o0O0o
Joe stood on the steps of a five-story red masonry and concrete building, UCLA's Boelter Hall, its math and computer science center. He loosened his tie and undid the top button on his shirt. He could breathe again. Working for Intertect was making him uptight. He removed his jacket and slung it over his shoulder.
He waited a second before he followed Richards into the building. The white on white hallway dazzled his eyes. The corridor was relieved by the dark brown floor molding and the walnut-paneled classroom doors. Down the hallway and to his right, Joe saw Richards turn left. Joe passed the elevators, desks piled up against a wall, and students. Not much had changed since he was in college. The brainiacs still walked around with slide rules and pocket protectors.
Joe stopped at the corner and peered around it. The entrance was blocked by a guard station manned by Intertect. Richards showed his badge to enter.
Odds were that was the only way into wherever Richards was going. Joe re-buttoned his shirt, slid the knot on his tie up, and slipped back into his jacket. He returned to the corridor with the elevators and desks. He swiped a clipboard and strolled up to the guard pretending to read the papers clipped to it. The guard blocked him.
"Your badge, sir," the guard said.
Joe took out his Intertect badge and tried to wave it at him like he saw Richards do, but the guard wasn't having any of that. He grabbed Joe's badge to get a closer look.
"Wait a minute, you're not cleared for this area."
"Ah, geez, I forgot to pick up my new one. Call Richards back. He'll vouch for me."
The guard wavered.
"Mr. Wickersham wants me to shadow him. He's training me, you know."
"Well, if Mr. Wickersham . . ."
Joe grabbed his badge back. "Thanks." He strode down the hall before the guard could make anymore objections.
Joe ditched the clipboard as soon as he was out of sight. He checked several rooms including the men's restroom and didn't see Richards anywhere. Did he already leave? Was there another exit? Why would he come here to leave by the back door? And judging by the security there shouldn't be a back door. He wandered deeper into the building. That vibration again. Somewhere around here was a room full of computers.
He cracked open another door—a break room. He started to close it when he glimpsed Richards studying the back of the coffee vending machine.
"A long way to come for a cup of coffee," Joe said.
"How did you get in here?" Richards stopped his examination. "You are working for Lew, aren't you?"
"Maybe. Lost your quarter?"
"Possibly more than that."
When two students entered the break room, Richards moved away from the vending machine.
"Not here," Richards whispered. He glanced out of the window. "Shakespeare Bridge, after ten tonight." He dashed from the break room.
"What? Wait!"
Joe looked out the window and wondered what Richards had seen. All he saw were guys in blue jeans and girls in miniskirts. He left the break room to catch up with Richards, but stopped when he saw him talking to the guard.
His exit cut off, Joe ducked into the men's restroom. He raised the window. No bars. He climbed out and dropped to the sidewalk. By the time he reached the parking lot Richards' Impala was gone. He did a walk-around to be sure.
Returning to his car, Joe saw the guard panning the parking lot. He had probably reported to his supervisor the secure area had been breeched by one Joe Mannix.
He checked his watch. The Data Operations class had been going for about an hour. He would have loved to be a fly on the wall when Pender told Lew he'd lost his trainee. He had a lot of time to kill until tonight. Might as well change out the tape at Wright's. He wondered what was on The Pirates of Penzance hit parade.
o0O0o
The Shakespeare Bridge was short span that crossed the local ravine in the Franklin Hills. The medieval turrets on either end stood like sentinels in the night. Joe stood on the north side of the bridge near St. George Street out of the reach of the glow from the street lamps.
In the distance he heard all the late night residential sounds: dogs barking at passing cars, television sets too loud, and metal trash cans being dragged down concrete driveways. This part of town was getting ready for bed.
From the other end of the bridge he saw car headlights swerving toward him like the driver was wrenching the steering wheel from one side to the other. Before Joe could move the car crashed into one of the turrets at the other end of the bridge. He started toward it. A man stumbled from the car, falling to his knees.
Suddenly high beams from another car blinded Joe. He jumped onto the sidewalk. The headlights lunged at him. He flattened himself against the railing enough for the front bumper to miss him. He pulled out his gun but before he could fire, the silver car squealed around the corner of St. George.
Joe rushed to the body. The man was lying face down and half on the sidewalk and half in the street. Blood pooled in the gutter. He turned the body over. It was Richards.
"Tape . . . coffee . . ." Richards gasped.
"Hold on." Joe pulled out his handkerchief and placed it over the wound. Blood soaked through. He searched for a pressure point.
In the distance he heard the sirens.
o0O0o
Wickersham threaded his way through the nosy neighbors and the bored LAPD uniformed officers as Richards' body was being loaded into the county van. The lab boys were taking measurements and photographs. In the center of the scene was Sgt. Art Malcolm.
"Sgt. Malcolm, what's the story?"
"Sorry about your man. Apparently Richards set up this meeting with Mannix. Before it could take place. . . ." Malcolm waved his arm at the crashed vehicle.
"Let me know if there's anything Intertect can do to assist you." Wickersham scanned the area. He found Mannix leaning against the bridge's concrete railing smoking a cigarette.
"Is it true? Joe says he works for you," Malcolm asked.
"Not for long." Wickersham walked over to Mannix. When he was closer, he saw the blood on Mannix's clothes. Brady's blood.
"Would you like to explain what happened here?"
Mannix tossed his cigarette over the railing. "I've already told Art. I'm sure you can read his report."
"You work for me. I want to know what happened right now. And then I want your written report on my desk in the morning."
"Look, Lew—"
"Look nothing. One of my men is dead and I have to go inform his family. What were you doing out here that got Richards gunned down in the street like a common thug? Is this connected to Project Moriarty?"
"It has to be. I followed Richards to UCLA."
"Yes, I got the report about your unauthorized access to the restricted area there."
"I'm not sure what he was doing there. He could have been following someone."
"Whom did he suspect? Why didn't he come to me?" Wickersham had always prided himself on having an open door policy, except Brady didn't see it that way.
"I don't know."
"Did he say anything before he died?"
Mannix glanced at Malcolm. The police detective was watching the lab boys collect the evidence. Mannix swiveled to put his back to him. "Something about coffee."
"Coffee?"
"Yeah, coffee and tape."
Wickersham pondered. "You didn't tell Malcolm." Mannix slightly shook his head. "Are you carrying?" Wickersham asked. "On second thought, I don't want to know. I want your report on my desk in the morning," he said to Mannix. "After that, you're fired. This was a bad idea."
"Lew—"
"The report and then you're gone. No government contract is worth someone's life."
Wickersham left to accompany Malcolm to inform Richards' family. He had been fortunate; this was the first time in Intertect's history he had to deliver a death notification. He never wanted to do this again. Hiring Mannix had been the biggest mistake of his life.